Free Steel & Ice by Emily Eck

rubbed the crust out of my eye, taking my time
answering.
    “ Conditions,” I told him. He
wasn’t getting me for nothing. “I’m going back to sleep right now.
I’ll be there by ten when the doors open. I’ll stay no later than
four AND I’m coming in on Sunday at ten instead of eight in the
morning. Find someone to do my prep work.”
    “ I can do everything but
Sunday.”
    “ It’s a nonnegotiable deal.
Take it or leave it.” Yeah, that was harsh, but at seven in the
morning that’s what you got from a sleepy and disgruntled
Elle.
    “ Well can you at least come
in at nine today?” Kevin begged. What part of nonnegotiable was he
not understanding?
    “ Nonnegotiable, Kevin. It’s
everything or nothing.” I’d worked in the kitchen long enough to
know how to play this game. He would buckle. If he didn’t, he would
be flipping burgers or frying chicken by himself all
day.
    “ Fine,” he
hissed.
    “ See you at ten,” I said,
and tossed the phone on the nightstand. I got up, peed, took some
ibuprofen, and went back to bed until nine-thirty. I would forgo a
shower and roll in there right as the doors opened.
    ******
    The day was slower than a usual Saturday, as
most people spent all their money the previous day on Christmas
presents. I was feeling a kinda lethargic, but my headache was
gone. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.
     
    CHRIS: u up?
    ME: fuckin workin
    CHRIS: u don’t work Sat days
    ME: picked up shift
    CHRIS: 808 tonight?
    ME: lemme c how I feel later
    CHRIS: bet
     
    I left the restaurant at eight that evening.
Yeah, I totally didn’t get out of there at four, but I negotiated
my Sunday shift away. It was more than a worthwhile trade. Sunday
brunch sucked, since you only cooked the menu items once a week. I
worked Sunday brunch for years, and always made the breakfast
items. Now I had the whole day off. First Sunday I would be free in
I don’t know how long.
    I texted Chris earlier and told her I was
staying late in the kitchen, and doubted I’d be up for clubbin’
that night. She was fine with that, telling me she was going on a
date. Chris usually had at least three phone numbers at any given
time she could call for a man to take her out. Some people might
consider her a hoe. I liked to think Sex in the City had lessened
that stereotype. Women wanted to have fun and get laid just as much
as men. We all went about it differently. Chris could keep the
emotions out of it. Me, not so much.
    After a long, and much needed shower, I
threw myself on the couch and fired up the Kindle. I was knee deep
in rock ‘n roll, and Kellan’s amazing hair when I heard my phone
beep. I groaned as it was in the other room. I didn’t want to get
up, but it could be Chris needing me to get her out of a bad date.
I grabbed it off the charger in my bedroom and looked at the caller
ID. It was from J. How did he get my number?
     
    J: u didn’t call
    ME: i picked up a shift
    J: what r u doing now?
    ME: chillin reading
    J: going out?
    ME: too tired
    J: meet me tomorrow?
     
    Was that a question or an order?
     
    ME: how did u get my #?
    J: the same way I gave u mine
    ME: ????
    J: when u were telling ur friend his balls
were ‘just fine’
     
    Ah, now I recall. I left my phone on the
table while I consoled Jesse after his brutal loss at pool. Well,
that was a little ballsy of J to program his number into my phone,
and undoubtedly call himself with it to get my number. Did I like
it? Or was it intrusive? It was intrusive, but shit, I kinda liked
that he took control. Especially that he did this while I was in my
work clothes, and not feeling all that sexy.
     
    J: so? tomorrow?
    ME: coffee at noon?
    J: isn’t that a lil late for coffee
    ME: noon is my morning
    J: gotcha. location?
    ME: starbucks on
27 th and
washington cool?
    J: anyplace would b cool
    ME: well it is winter u kno :)
    J: anyplace would be cool if UR there ;)
    ME: smooth talker eh?
    J: nah just tellin the truth
    ME: i like the truth.
    J: c u